Broken Shadows: Ritual
by Huntress of Sacred Dreams
Summary: Broken. Lost. Found. Forced to rebuild from the ashes. Now darkness threatens her life once more with the coming of a daedric prince that demands ultimate power. Blood will be spilt and a new race brought forth from the shadows of Rineria.
1. Chapter One

**AN: Yeah I started a Skyrim fanfic, what of it? Planning on finishing this one, already have six chapters written. Going to make an oath to completing this. Enjoy. **

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**Chapter One **

_The headsman waited before the chopping block, a severed body lying on the ground next to it. Blood spattered his axe, coating the ragged edge with the stuff of nightmares. "Next!" the woman called, "the Nord in the rags!" _

_That was my cue. A rough hand pushed my forwards and the ropes binding my hands rubbed against my wrists. The man that had been marking the list looked me in the eyes and mouthed, 'I'm sorry.' But apologies weren't going to save me now. My fate had been sealed the moment I had stumbled across that ambush. If only I hadn't chased after that deer then maybe I wouldn't be here today. _

_I made no eye contact with the other prisoners. They had been called Stormcloak soldiers. And their leader had been in the same carriage as me. Not that I cared. It was his fault that the ambush had been there in the first place. _

_Another hand pushed me to the ground, followed by the hard bottom of a boot. Whoever it was shoved my head onto the chopping block, my neck thrust painfully onto the uncomfortable chipped stone. I slammed my eyes closed and waited for the momentary sting that heralded the arrival of my entrance to Sovngarde. But instead I heard an ear-splitting roar that echoed throughout the village of Helgen followed by a loud rumbling. The headsman dropped his axe to the ground with a loud clank and I forced my eyes open. But I really wish I hadn't. _

_Sitting on the top of one of the guards towers was a giant lizard with wings that could only be what my mother had told me stories about. The fabled Dragons of old. At the precise moment I wasn't wondering why they had returned. Instead I was wondering if would get out if here alive. When the beast opened its mouth and let out a roar I just figured that I would die here anyway, just not in the way I first thought. _

_Before I could give up and allow myself to be burnt to a crisp by a beast that hadn't been seen for centuries I felt a hand grab my shoulder and pull me to my feet. "Don't give up now!" a man yelled over the din of screaming people and the roar of the dragon. _

_I don't know what happened at the moment but something awoke within me and instead of giving myself up to Sovngarde I allowed myself to be pulled through the rubble that I presumed had once been the village of Helgen. _

_The shrieking roars of the dragon pierced the day as flames exploded and consumed every part of the village. A huge shadow covered the land the man and I were running across, a shadow so big it looked like one you might see before death. The ground jolted beneath my feet and sent me sprawling across the ground. Rocks ripped at my skin through the ripped and ruined tunic I had been forced to wear. Pain rocketed through my ankle as it cracked loudly. I whimpered and touched it gingerly, wincing when another wave of pain shot through it. _

_"Hey!" someone shouted loudly. "Run!" _

_I jerked my head up to stare into the red eyes of the dragon. It stared down at me with some hidden fire burning in its eyes. My breath caught in my throat as a loud growl tore from its throat. From the corner of my eye I could see the man that had pulled me to my feet only minutes earlier screaming and waving his hands around like a maniac. I guessed that he was telling me to run or move or do something but I could no longer see the point. The dragon was so close that I could see every intricate detail on its dark gray scales. It opened its jaw to reveal many jagged and blood stained teeth, each as sharp as knives. A loud roar echoed from its throat. "Zu'u lost daal! Daar Lein los dii!" _

_From where I cowered I could see an orange light glowing in the back of its throat, steadily getting brighter and closer with every passing heartbeat. I knew what was coming. The heat of a thousand fires, flung from the throat of a beast long since thought dead. I scrunched my eyes closed and hoped with all my heart that I would die quickly. A rush of air heralded the fire and its tongues of burning red flames licked at my skin, burning it with such ferocity I was certain I would pass out. _

_But I did not. And I could feel every inch of my body begin to burn as the onslaught of fire continued to spew from the beast's mouth. Darkness finally encroached on my vision and I felt my head grow lighter. The whispers of Sovngarde stirred the hair that hung over my ears and I let myself go limp and allowed the warriors of Sovngarde take me away. _

I sat up with a gasp, the nightmare still echoing in my mind. A tingling feeling was racing up and down my body and I assumed it was what the flames must have felt like when they licked at my skin. I shuddered and pulled the covers back over my body. Tears pricked at the corners of my eyes as I recalled that terrible day in Helgen. The only difference was that Ralof and I had escaped without any injury. My hand touched my cheek, caressing the three scratch marks that lingered there. _Without any serious injuries, _I corrected myself. I smiled as I thought of Ralof. Without him I probably would have died that day in Helgen. Or I would have died in the wilderness outside of Helgen's walls.

Warm memories swam before my eyes, of the year after the dragon attack when Ralof took me in and helped me pick up the shards of my life. I even taught him how to hunt and he taught me how to use a knife. For that year I didn't think about my past life. Anything past Helgen didn't cross my mind.

A hand suddenly touched the small of my back and I jumped. "Settle down, darling," a voice slurred. I scrunched my nose up in disgust. He was _still _drunk. I'd seen him drink a lot of mead the previous night but I had expected it to have worn off by now.

"I'm fine, Dalan," I replied through gritted teeth. I could smell the alcohol on his breath from where I sat.

The bed moved as the Breton sailor struggled to sit up. "Something's wrong," he murmured in my ear. "You've never woken up like that before. You can tell me, darling. I won't tell a soul!" He made a funny choking sound, probably a drunken laugh. His hand brushed some of my light brown hair behind my ear as he pecked me on the cheek. Not that it was a peck. More of a slobbering kiss that stunk of mead. I pushed him away but he grabbed my shoulder and pulled me back.

"You paid for one night," I reminded him, anger snaking into my tone.

Dalan shrugged and tugged harder, "So? You know you want to stay for longer!"

Before he could make another move I had whipped my knife out from my dress that lay in a mess on the floor and had it pinned up against his throat. "Oh yes, Dalan. I _really _want to stay longer," I drawled sarcastically as the knife pricked his neck, drawing small beads of blood.

"Fine! Relax! Gee, you're so uptight today, darling," Dalan muttered as he fell back onto the bed with a soft thump. I arched my eyebrow at him before I slipped out of the covers and reached down for my clothes that were piled on the wooden floor. "Has anyone ever told you how gorgeous you look without clothes on?" he murmured from the bed.

I rolled my eyes. "Yes. Every single customer I have." I could practically hear his heart hit the floor at the thought of other men calling me gorgeous. A small laugh bubbled in my chest but I didn't dare let it out. Dalan had a reputation for being rather violent whilst he was drunk. He hadn't been violent with me yet but I'd rather keep it that way.

I tugged my underwear on and then pulled my dress over my head, making sure the long slit that cut the side of my dress open up until the top of my thigh wasn't revealing too much. Dalan's snores reached my ears and I sighed. It was always easier to leave when customers are sleeping. I twisted my hair up into a simple braid and secured it with a small butterfly hair piece. Without looking back at Dalan's drunken, sleeping form, I opened the door and stepped out into one of the hallways of Candlehearth Hall.

From where I stood I could hear the small snores and sounds of people sleeping peacefully in the many beds the hall supplied. I could even hear Elda worrying away downstairs, probably cleaning up after last night. A faint smile passed over my face. Despite Dalan's constant presence during the night it had been fun. We had drunk mead, sung songs and danced the night away.

I shook my head and began to creep down the hall, not wanting to wake any of Elda's customers. She would have my head if I woke any of them up and they complained. I know business had been tough for her recently, with the dragons and the war. Hardly any visitors visited Windhelm anymore.

"Morning, Athrema." Elda's voice made me jump. I hadn't expected her to notice me straight away.

"Good morning, Elda. Have you been up all night?" I asked.

The inn-keeper nodded, the broom she had been using to sweep the floor was now used by the elderly woman for something to lean on. "Yes," she said tiredly. "There was a lot to do. The inn needs to look presentable for any new customers." There was a tone of longing in her voice. It wasn't hard to work out that all Elda wanted was new customers.

"New customers are bound to come by soon," I soothed as I placed my hand on her shoulder. Elda smiled and patted my hand. "Did anything happen after Dalan and I retired?"

A cheeky smile replaced Elda's saddened one. "No. Just the usual rowdy fight between Stenvar and Rolff."

"So no one heard anything?" I questioned meekly. The thought of someone hearing Dalan and I was beyond horrifying and it made me shudder.

Elda laughed. "Everyone was too busy watching the men beat each other up to hear anything."

I sighed in relief. It was wonderful to know that no one had been paying enough attention to hear anything. "Thank the gods!" I laughed. "I'd better be going. Don't want Nira throwing a fit because I haven't come home." I raised my hand and waved at Elda and began to move towards the door.

"Wait!" Elda cried and then disappeared behind the counter. She returned moments later with a thick looking brown coat. "Someone gave me this last night and told me to give it to you." She gave me the coat. It felt soft and luxurious on my hands, and I suspected it would feel like a warm hug once worn.

"Oh! Wow! This looks really expensive! Do you know who left it?" My eyes traced the individual strands of brown hair that felt so soft. It certainly was a beautiful coat. Not something a stranger would leave for some prostitute, right?

Elda shook her head and started sweeping the floor once more. "I didn't get a good enough look. But he sounded young. He didn't sound like someone that was particularly rich. I thought it was odd that he even had a coat like this in the first place!"

I made a _hmm _sound as I thought of all the people I know that might be able to _even _afford a coat like the one I was stroking. And I came to the conclusion that no one I know would be able to afford such a coat. "Thanks anyway, Elda. I expect I'll see you later."

"Goodbye, Athrema! Take care of yourself!"

I smiled at Elda and opened the inn door, shivering when a blast of cold air brought the crisp, fresh smell of snow. My hands clutched my new coat and without thinking I threw it over my shoulders and hugged it close to my body. It was warm and soft on the inside and it defiantly felt like a warm hug from a big fluffy dog. A small smile curled at the corners of my mouth as I stepped out into the thick snow.

The feeling of water seeping into my shoes sprung up and grew with every step I took. I stared at my ratty, old boots with disgust. I may as well just take them off and walk bare foot through the snow. A blast of cold wind chilled me to the bone and I hugged my coat even closer, wishing that the wind would go away. But it didn't. In fact it just blew harder, and colder.

I didn't see the uneven piece of cobblestone till it was too late. My boot caught in it and the ground jerked out from beneath my feet and rushed up to meet me. I thrust my hands out in front of me to stop my face from colliding with the cold cobblestone road.

Before my hands touched the cold ground I felt hands grip my shoulders through my thick coat and pull me back to my feet. "Careful, lass!" came a voice that held a thick accent. But it wasn't an accent that I had ever heard before. "The roads are rather slippery this morning."

I twisted my head to stare at the man that had saved me from receiving a bloody nose. His face was marred in a few places by small scars and it made him appear like he had seen the worst of Skyrim on many occasions. His hair was an odd shade of brown and it looked like it had a tinge of red to it. I had never seen him in Windhelm before and I could only assume that he was either visiting or a new Stormcloak soldier. "Thank you," I said after a moment's hesitation. "Returning home with a bloody nose would not have made Nira happy."

"Home?" the man queried. "Perhaps I could escort you there. In case you fall over again," he added quickly. I looked him up and down with a sharp eye. Sure if he tried to pull a trick on me I could always stab him with my dagger but you can never be too careful in Windhelm. I decided that he could be trusted to walk me back home.

"You may. I call the Icedawn Brothel home. Surely you've heard of it?" Who hadn't? It was the most infamous place in all of Skyrim. We're renowned for our cheap women and wonderful service. But, honestly, we are more than that. And I know it sounds corny, but we are. Icedawn first started out as a home for lost women. A place for those who were lost and had no life to run back too. But there was no income for the home, and it began to fall to pieces around the first owner. One of the women who called it home decided to earn the home money by selling herself to the men of old Windhelm. And so the Icedawn Brothel was born.

"Aye, lass. I've heard of it." The man's voice brought me back from my reminiscing. "Oh. And you dropped this when you fell." He held my coin purse out and I grabbed it away from him. I had a lot of gold in my purse and I did not want to lose any of it. I quickly stuffed my purse in the same place as my dagger, in a small pocket hidden away inside my dress.

"My coins! Thank you, sir! Nira would have killed me if I'd lost them!"

He smiled warmly at me and we continued to chat like we'd known each other for years as we walked along the deserted back roads of Windhelm.

Eventually the steps of the Brothel appeared from the gloom and we stopped on them. "This is where we part ways, lass," he said. I still hadn't gotten use to his accent. It was so different and wonderful.

"It is," I responded as I gazed up at the many windows. "But please, call me Athrema."

"Athrema. That's a pretty name," he complimented. It made me blush. I'd been called pretty and gorgeous over and over but no one had ever complimented my name. "I go by Brynjolf."

I blinked at him, "Well, thank you for escorting me home, Brynjolf."

"The pleasures all mine, Athrema. Perhaps we will see each other again someday?"

He said it as a question. And I did not know how to answer. I wanted to see him again someday, he had been nice to talk to and he had been sweet and charming. But he was a complete stranger. A small voice in the back of my head told me that he was no longer a stranger but an acquaintance. Maybe he was. I didn't know anymore. "Perhaps," was all I said.

He gave a small, slightly sad smile and then walked away. I watched his figure until it faded away into the darkness. I felt sad at seeing him go, which was strange for me. Men usually never stirred such emotions in me. Then again hardly any people did.

Another blast of cold wind forced me up the rest of the stairs and into the Brothel. I shut the heavy wooden door behind me and was immediately overwhelmed by the heat from the fire the burned in the main part of the building. The coat suddenly felt really heavy and hot so I shrugged it off and hung it over my arm. The thumping of shoes sounded nearby and a slim Argonian rushed in.

"Athrema! Thank the gods you're back! Demaria's kicking up a storm with Nira because some man stole her coin purse whilst she was walking back from her customer's house!"

I stared at the Argonian whilst my mind tried to go over the sudden influx of information I had received. "Wait. Slow down, Leeshoi. Did Demaria see who it was?"

Leeshoi nodded vigorously, "She said it was a strong looking man with a few scars on his face and odd brown hair that looked tinged with red."

My mouth dropped open. _Brynjolf_ had been the man that had stolen Demaria's coin purse. It made no sense but Demaria's descriptions were never wrong. I blinked a few times as I tried to recall anything that had looked out of place about Brynjolf. But there was nothing. He had seemed like a nice man. But in reality he wasn't.

But…he gave my coin purse back….Why didn't he steal mine? I wouldn't have noticed till I got back. I was confused, cold and exhausted. My brain was just a mess of information, worries and questions. I clutched my forehead with one hand and somehow managed to stumble up the stairs to the bedroom I shared with two other women. My hands found my bed and I fell onto it, not bothering to put my nightgown on.

Sleep washed over me like a cold wave and darkness claimed me swiftly.

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**AN: First chapter's usually a bit of a boring one. Very different storyline that I have planned out, as well as a new race. Story starts to pick up in a few chapters. **

**-Hunter**


	2. Chapter Two

**AN: Early update. Thanks for the reviews! Enjoy. **

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**Chapter Two**

"Athrema! You can't do that!" Leeshoi exclaimed, hitting me sharply over the head with her hand. I grinned at her mischievously whilst I smoothed down the bump in my hair she had caused.

"Why not?" I whined. "She's been asking for it all month!"

Leeshoi rolled her eyes and stomped off towards the kitchen, two plates clamped in her scaly hands. She rinsed them off in the basin of water, scrubbing them hard to make sure all the remains of breakfast were gone. As usual the large dining room was fairly full with women from the brothel, all enjoying the dinner cooked by Usula, the best cook throughout all of Windhelm and possible all of Skyrim. "You can't steal her pay and you know exactly why. If Nira found out she'd give Demaria your pay for an entire week and I know for a fact you wouldn't be able to survive with no money for a week," Leeshoi hissed as she walked back to the table.

I sighed loudly and stretched out my knees, resting my legs on the chair in front of me. The wood rubbed a little uncomfortably on my bare legs but it was a feeling I was well used too. All of the chairs within the brothel were made from rough wood, apart from the ones within Nira's chamber. They were adorned with soft red fabric. Nira's chamber was the richest of all the chambers, probably due to her owning the brothel. "Come on; at least admit that it would have been funny!"

"What would've been funny?" a cold voice spat before Leeshoi could answer. I tilted my head back to stare up into the icy, green, glowing eyes of a rather pissed looking woman.

My mind told me to smirk up at the lady but my common sense told me not too and I tend to listen to my common sense, "Good morning, Demaria!" I said way too cheerfully. "I hope you had a good feed last night before your coin purse was stolen?"

Someone behind me failed to stifle an amused giggle as Demaria narrowed her eyes at me in rage. Her face reddened slightly. "Of course I fed well. Drunken men can't tell the difference between a love bite and a vampire's bite," she smiled, showing off her pointed fangs. "The night was going well, until that bastard stole my coin purse! I'd made over 500 septims as well! More than you at least."

"You may have made more septims than me but at least I managed to keep mine," I retorted angrily. Demaria always had a way of getting under my skin, she seemed to enjoy it and I have to admit that I do enjoy taunting her back. I smirked to myself; her coin purse being stolen was probably karma paying a visit, finally.

By now the dining room had gone silent, all eyes turned to look at Demaria and me. It surprised me that any of them even payed attention anymore seeing as arguments between the vampire and I occur every morning. Demaria tossed her black over one shoulder and repositioned her blood red rose in her hair before she answered. When she did answer her voice was high-pitched and strained, almost as if she was trying not to tear my throat out. "At least I was with a decent man. He gave me dinner before we even entered his bedroom. Bet you had fun with Dalan. Did he stink of mead? What a surprise."

"Of course he stunk of mead," an elderly voice broke in. I felt a small smile curl at the corners of my mouth. Nira would put an end to this irritating argument. The petite lady walked gracefully into the dining room, green dress rustling as she walked. "Dalan's hardly ever sober; surely you'd know that, Demaria. Didn't you used to be his favourite client?"

Small snickers rose up from around the room and Demaria hung her head slightly, backing down from the argument she would never win. The vampire muttered something under her breath and then left the dining room. Moments later the front door slammed shut and everyone within the brothel sighed in relief. "How about you two become friends so I can stop breaking up your fights?" Nira offered as she patted me on the shoulder.

I laughed and smiled up at my guardian, "That's never going to happen and you know it."

Nira winked at me, frail face alight with cheekiness. Seeing Nira happy always made my day, her smile was contagious. "Do me a favour, Athrema. Take this a package over to Bolfrida, she's been wanting some of my Honey Nut Treats for days now. After that you can do whatever you want."

"Sure, I'd be glad to. A walk might wake me up a little," I said with a yawn and took the package of a sticky treats from Nira. Some of the honey had dripped through the linen wrap making the package a little sticky. I scrunched up my nose in disgust. Honey was one of my least favourite things.

Something soft was suddenly draped around my shoulders and I jumped a little, only to relax when I realised it was my thick coat. Leeshoi _ooe'd _at it. "Where'd you get that from?" the Argonian breathed.

"It was a gift from someone," I replied as I repositioned the coat comfortably on my shoulders. Warmth radiated out from the coat and I snuggled further into it, glad that I wouldn't have to walk through the snow in my short, blue dress. Leeshoi waved goodbye as I exited the dining room and began walking up the long hallway to the front door.

Cold air was blowing in under the door frame, freezing my toes a little through my leather boots bringing with it the sharp smell of fresh snow. I readied myself and then opened the door, flinching as small snowflakes attacked my face. The day itself was very beautiful. Fresh snow blanketed the stone walkways of Windhelm; bright beams of sunshine penetrated the light snowfall and lit up the icy world. A couple of birds twittered happily from their perches atop a roof, their song breaking the uncomfortable silence that usually came hand-in-hand with fresh snowfall.

A couple of guards were roaming around the streets, less than usual, but their presence was a comforting one. The city was safe with guards patrolling the streets throughout the both day and night. As I walked through the graveyard like I did most mornings I noticed a small crowd gathered around one of the stone coffins. Their conversations were low and thus hard to pick up, heightening my curiosity to find out what was going on. "What happened?" I asked anyone who was listening.

"No one really knows," a guard answered, coming over to stand beside me. "All we know is that the body belongs to Susanne the Wicked."

_Body? _Now I was confused. I took a step closer to the coffin, peered over someone's shoulder and gasped. Blood was spattered everywhere, all over the snow, the raised snow coffin and over the barely covered body of Susanne the Wicked. Her clothes had been taken and all that was left to cover the beaten and bloody body was the underwear Susanne must have been wearing at the time she was murdered. It truly was a horrific scene.

"Who could have done this?" I gasped to the guard.

He shrugged, sword clanking loudly in its sheath. "Dunno. Don't have anyone to search for the murderer either. Too many guards out fighting in the war. You best be on your way, little lady, this isn't a place someone like you should be hanging around."

I inclined my head and walked away, a little nervous at walking alone through the streets. But then I shook my head, Windhelm was a safe place to be. There were always guards around to catch the bad people. A small thought niggled away at the back of my mind. Susanne was the third murder within a month and still the murderer hadn't been caught. It was a little nerve-wracking to think that a murderer was running around in Windhelm.

The alley opened up and Candlehearth Hall appeared. Part of me wanted to vanish inside the warm inn and exchange gossip with Elda but I had to deliver Nira's package to Bolfrida. I muttered a curse under my breath and shouldered through the cold to reach the huge, metal door that kept the dangers of the outside world from entering Windhelm. As I walked up to it the gate-keeper pulled open the gate, allowing me to slip through it and onto the long bridge that travelled over the wide river.

"Mornin'," one of the two guards greeted.

I smiled politely at him, "Good morning. I hope the night wasn't too chilly for you?"

"Luckily I don't know," the guard rumbled. "My friend and I took over from the other guards about an hour ago. But I heard that the night was indeed an icy one as well as a frightening one. The cries of angry dragons were heard and apparently one guard saw the silhouette of one shoot over the city!"

"That is certainly a frightening thing. I hope we don't get attacked by one with most of our guards off fighting in the war. Keep safe." I farewelled the talkative guard and began the long walk down the bridge.

Soft tendrils of snow drifted lazily on the breeze, gently caressing my face as I walked down the stone bridge. A rabbit scampered quickly down the bridge, kicking up snow from its hind legs. It made me giggle a little to see the little creature running so fast that it looked like it was about to trip up at any moment.

The bridge came to an end with the sound of horses stamping their hooves against the chilly ground. I breathed in the musty smell of fresh hay and smiled. The smell of horses was one of the only smells that could smooth my anxiousness. I've always loved horses but I suppose I can't really have one living where I am now. The poor thing would just get lonely standing out in the stables all day without anyone to ride it.

As I passed the stables Ulundil called out from his usual spot, leaning up against one of the stable beams. His two horses snuffled around behind him, chomping slowly on hay and freshly made oats. "Where are you off to this morning, Athrema?"

"Brandy-Mug Farm," I called back and continued walking, not really feeling up to another conversation. Ulundil didn't press on, going back to his work. I silently thanked him for that. Right now all I wanted to do was to be off the roads and back in Windhelm, where it was safe.

The road was naturally uneven, each cobblestone a different height and size than the others, and the mounds of snow made it even harder to walk on. I grumbled under my breath and kept my eyes on the road, watching each footstep carefully. The sticky package was still clutched firmly in my hand, honey seeping through the linen wrap and into my palm. It was a horrible feeling, one that I never really wanted to feel again. At least I was warm, my fur coat made sure of that. I made a mental note to look into whoever had given me the coat and thank them.

Finally the walk was over and Brandy-Mug Farm sat before me. Chickens clucked in their pen and a goat milled peacefully around, stopping every now and again to dig up snow in search of edible grass. Bolfrida wasn't outside in the garden tending to her crops so I assumed she was inside, probably busying herself with cooking or cleaning.

I marched up to the door and rapped lightly on it, thanking the gods when it opened and Bolfrida looked out. "Oh, hello, dear," the hardy woman croaked, opening the door more to welcome me in. "What brings you out to my small farm?"

"Nira sent me to you with a few of her Honey Nut Treats," I explained as I walked into the small house. The house was warm, a roaring fire keeping everything toasty, and food cooking over the fire filled the house with a stunning smell. Bolfrida smiled brightly at me and took the sticky package from my hand, allowing me to wipe the remaining strands of honey off onto my coat.

"I'm glad she finally got round to making them! Ah, I can't wait to sink my teeth into one of these." The old lady unwrapped the linen wrap and pulled out one of the Honey Nut Treats. She quickly ate one of them before re-wrapping the rest of the treats. "These are by far the best Honey Nut Treats in all of Skyrim. Tell Nira that she really should start selling them, she'd make some money for sure!"

"All this fuss over some honey covered treats? I'll tell her that you liked them but I had better be going now," I replied, turning to face the wooden door.

Bolfrida laughed, "If you didn't hate honey so much then I'd bet you'd like these treats just as much as I do. Be good, dear, and don't do anything silly! If anything happens to you then whose going to deliver these treats to me?"

I giggled and swatted at the old lady. Bolfrida had always been a happy lady despite her constant loneliness. She only ever had company on the days when her employee, Faryl, comes around to help with the upkeep of the farm. "I'm sure there would be someone else that Nira would get to deliver your treats! Good bye, Bolfrida."

Bolfrida waved and then returned to stirring whatever delicious meal was in the metal pot. I opened the door, allowing cold air and snow to rush into the farm house. So to not freeze Bolfrida I quickly slipped outside and slammed the door shut behind me.

The air seemed colder than before, a little sharper almost. Thankfully the snow wasn't falling any harder but the sun appeared to have dimmed a little. I tugged the coat harder over my shoulders and began tackling the uneven cobblestone road to return home.

It was peaceful at least, not another soul roamed the road apart from the four Khajiit traders camped out behind the stables, but they were still a little way off. The silence allowed me to think a little, mainly about Brynjolf.

He'd stolen Demaria's coin purse earlier and I assumed he had planned to rob me as well. It really confused me that he hadn't. I mean he'd had my coin purse and then he'd given it back, like a decent citizen! "Men are confusing," I muttered to myself. "Maybe he just thought that I needed the money more than he did. Very noble of him."

There was a sudden snapping sound from behind me, making me jump. I whirled around, whipped my dagger out from its sheath that was strapped to the inside of my thigh. Wielding the dagger made me feel a little safer but I began to regret not bringing my bow. Now my bow I could wield well. If the creature or person lurking in the trees tried to attack me I could have knocked an arrow into their hearts. But with a dagger I'd have to get closer to danger.

Footsteps sounded from behind me and once again I whirled around, slashing my dagger at the air a few times but again there was no one there. "Show yourself!" I shouted but no one answered. I was suddenly anxious. What if I was about to be attacked and murdered like Susanne?

Suddenly something clasped my shoulder, something heavy and warm. I gasped, nearly screamed and then kicked backwards. My foot hit something solid that was followed by a groan. Quickly I spun on my heels with my dagger raised only to groan inwardly.

"Brynjolf!?"

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**AN: Aye, another boring chapter. I'll be updating every Monday from now on. **

**-Hunter**


	3. Chapter Three

**AN: Heh, I actually updated on time for once. Enjoy. **

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**Chapter Three**

"Hello, lass. Didn't think I'd be seeing you again for a while," Brynjolf grinned. His accent was still something I had to get used to. It was so different yet wonderful to listen to.

"You have some serious explaining to do. How about you start with why you stole Demaria's purse but not mine?" I demanded still wielding my dagger. There was no way I was lowering my only defence at a time like this. We were the only ones on the road and the Khajiit's probably wouldn't do anything if I screamed.

Brynjolf's smile dropped a little though he seemed impressed. "You certainly do keep up with things, lass. Wasn't expecting you to pick up on that. Oh well, these things are in the past. That vampire, Demaria was it? Anyway, she was asking to be robbed, waltzing down dark alleys like she owned them. Even a vampire should be careful when travelling alone at night, especially one as pretty as her." The attractive man paused to scratch his head, a lopsided smile spreading across his face. "You were just too fragile to be robbed, all though I am willing to take that back seeing as you're wielding a rather sharp dagger. I took a liking to you, so I gave you your money back."

I faltered a little. He'd given me my money back because he'd taken a liking to me? Some thief. "You mustn't make much money if you give back the coins you've stolen to girls you've taken a liking to," I retorted sharply.

The thief laughed loudly and straightened up, still eyeing me cautiously though. "You have fire, lass. I like that. But you needn't worry about me not making enough money. Where I come from money is easy to come by, especially in my line of work."

"Your line of work?"

Brynjolf stared at me for a few moments before he answered, "I take it you have never been to Riften, lass?"

Two choices came to mind at the moment. I could lie and say that I hadn't or tell him the truth and risk him finding out what had happened in Riften many years ago. Part of me wanted to trust this man that I had only met during the early hours of this morning but then the other part of me wanted him to look at me like an innocent person who had never gone far beyond the walls of Windhelm, despite that being the biggest lie I had ever spun.

"No. Never been to Riften," I lied and sheathed my dagger. Brynjolf was obviously not a threat; he had made that pretty clear, not to mention how attractive he was. A small smile flitted across my face. Maybe having Brynjolf as a friend wouldn't be so bad.

"Shame. Riften's a pretty place. You'd like it, looks so much different to the white and grey world of Windhelm," Brynjolf smiled. He suddenly stiffened and drew a sword out from the sheath that was hanging around his waist. "Stay behind me."

"What?" I demanded, whipping out my own dagger only to have Brynjolf pull me behind him. "I can look after myself!"

He didn't listen and instead positioned himself in a protective stance, sword gripped firmly in his hand. I couldn't even see who he was protecting me from! All I could see was his thick armour and browny red hair. It pissed me off a little to be treated like a weakling. Again I wished I could have brought my bow, it would have been so handy at this precise moment in time.

A voice reached my ears through the light snow and small breeze, "Sheath your weapon, thief, or we will have attack!"

I recognised that voice, I'd recognise it anywhere. I hurriedly sheathed my dagger, sidestepped Brynjolf and dashed forwards, a huge smile cracking my face. "Ralof!"

The blonde Stormcloak soldier blanched and then he too smiled, opening his arms for a hug. I jumped into them, grateful for the sudden feeling of safety I felt whenever Ralof was around. The sound of swords clanking into their sheaths made me grit my teeth but even that noise couldn't dampen my happiness. It had been six or seven months since I'd last seen my oldest friend, my saviour. He kissed my hair gently and wrapped his arms tighter around my waist, just like he did the night he found me sobbing on the island back in Riverwood. "I had hoped I'd get to see you!" he murmured.

"I didn't know you were coming to Windhelm! Weren't you and your men stationed over near Solitude?" I questioned, breathing in his familiar scent. For all I knew he could be gone again tomorrow and I mightn't see him again for a year. In my sudden race of happiness I had completely forgotten about Brynjolf. I pulled away from the tight embrace and turned to find him standing awkwardly by himself, sword lowered a little. His eyes were narrowed in anger. Maybe he and the Stormcloak soldiers had run into each other before.

Ralof stroked my cheek and it sent tingles racing through my body. "We're rotating around so I'll be here in Windhelm for a few days but then I'll be gone again."

I pouted a little, upset that he'd be gone again, but at least he was here now and alive instead of dead. "Well we'll spend all the time we have together over those few days. You have a lot to tell me," I shoved him roughly. "What's this I hear about you being promoted to Captain?"

The soldier blushed a little, "Word travels fast, aye? I've already been promoted and this is my squadron of soldiers. Best bunch of soldiers there ever was."

A couple of the soldiers chuckled whilst others inclined their heads in agreement. However one took a step forward, gesturing towards the thief who had yet to move from his awkward position. "What are we going to do with him?" The soldier's voice was rough, low and tired. It was obvious that he had been using it a lot recently.

Ralof met Brynjolf's gaze with the calm and control that came from leading soldiers. "Why are you so far from your sewer, thief?"

"Can a Nord not take a holiday?" was Brynjolf's sharp reply.

"Aye, that he can," Ralof responded smoothly. "But it all depends on the actions that Nord wishes to take upon that holiday. I ask again, Brynjolf of Riften, why are you in Windhelm?" This time Ralof was demanding an answer instead of asking, you could hear it in his voice.

Brynjolf could hear the ice behind the Stormcloak Captain's voice, "I am merely here to admire the sky upon the Night of Blue Lights. Was I lied to when a friend told me of the great vantage point Windhelm is to see these lights? Other than that it is indeed a relaxing holiday. One to drink mead and perhaps find a pretty lady to warm my bed." As he said that his green eyes met my dark yellow ones and held them, seemingly searching my face for answers he would never find.

If he had merely come to Windhelm in search of a pretty lady to warm his bed then he would not need to be here long. All he would have to do is shout and one would come running. No doubt Demaria would snap him up, she has an eye for good looking men and Brynjolf was certainly one of those. She'd have him wrapped around her porcelain, vampire finger within three hours of his feet touching the insides of Windhelm. It was her greatest gift and biggest flaw, her beauty.

"Trust is not something I give out to thieves such as yourself, but today I am feeling generous. Do not break this fragile trust or my men and I will hunt you down like the dog you are. Besides," Ralof smiled down at me and I returned the smile before my eyes returned to the ivy green stare of Brynjolf, "my friend here appears to think of you as a friend, which makes you a mutual friend of mine. I bid you a fine day, Brynjolf."

I watched closely, eyes picking up even the smallest detail, as Brynjolf sheathed his sword and straightened up. I suspected that only I could see the flashes of anger that flitted across his eyes, or the way he clutched his sword with white-knuckles. He was prepared for a fight despite the fact that one had been avoided. It made me a little downhearted to see a Nord so used to fighting faced by a situation of peace. Or perhaps he was just pissed at Ralof for interrupting our talk. I didn't have a clue. Observing is a skill of mine but reading minds is something I rarely even dream about, all though it would have been rather helpful.

The thief that Ralof had given the gift of trust to finally let go of the hilt of his sword and raised his hand in a gesture of farewell, "Thank you for being so kind as to let me live past this meeting. Athrema," he called and I raised my eyes to meet his, "perhaps I could buy you a drink within Windhelm sometime tonight or tomorrow?"

A part of me rejoiced at this invitation, a time to get to know the strange thief more, but then the other part of me wanted to spend all my time with Ralof before he left again. _Just balance the two, _I said to myself; _spend tonight and some of tomorrow with Ralof and then the rest with Brynjolf, easy!_

"That would be nice," I called back, ignoring Ralof's sudden iron grip on my waist. "Tomorrow?"

"Tomorrow will be fine," Brynjolf answered and then he was gone, striding down the cobblestone road towards the bridge and Windhelm. It was then that I turned and saw a thunderstorm raging within the eyes of Ralof, which I found hard not to laugh at. He was too protective over me whenever he was around. I'm just glad he's never around when a brawl breaks out between another woman and me, they get violent quickly.

Ralof relaxed once the thief was out of sight, releasing his grip on my arm, but he wasn't done with me yet, not by a long shot! "Since when were you so friendly with a thief," he muttered. "They're nothing but trouble."

"Judging people is a skill you do not want to have; besides he is a noble man when he's not pick pocketing the rich. He gave me my coin purse back when he stole it off me," I spat back, immediately regretting it.

My old friend's eyes grew icy cold and as hard as steel, "He stole from you? And I let that son of a bitch go! Athrema I don't know why you have to get so friendly with the worst people."

I rolled my eyes. "Remind me again why I'm still friends with you? I can look after myself, I did it for a whole year before I ended up in Windhelm, remember?"

"Aye, don't remind me. I regret leaving you to fend for yourself _here _let alone out in the wilds of Skyrim. She's a nasty country to wander all on your lonesome," he murmured and drew me in for another hug. I accepted it, just happy to be around him once again. One does tend to miss their closest friends when they're away. "Come now, let's leave this well trodden path and drink some mead within the safety of Windhelm!"

His men cheered loudly and began to make their way towards Windhelm, talking and laughing amongst each other like they probably did most nights around a warm fire. I laughed along with them, picking up on inside  
jokes and little stories quickly, mingling with the tired soldiers like I'd known them all my life. They were all nice men, most Nords apart from the Khajiit who called himself Ra Sasha. His tale was – by far – the most interesting to hear on the short walk from Brandy-Mug Farm to the city gate.

According to him – and the inputs from the soldiers – he had been calmly fishing on a river just inside the border when he heard the sound of horse's hooves beating against the ground. Within moments a whole squadron of Imperial soldiers burst from the trees. At the same time a similar sized Stormcloak squadron burst from the opposite trees and all war broke out. Ra Sasha just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time and found himself locking swords with Imperial soldiers. "How I managed to survive the onslaught of vicious Imperial soldiers I will never know!" he admitted, ears swivelling around as he spoke. "But here I am today wearing the colour of Skyrim fighting for a country that has graciously accepted me with open arms. She truly is a magnificent country."

His tale was followed by whoops, cheers and claps on the back. I just smiled and patted him lightly on the solider. He'd done well to be taken in by the Stormcloak's and had made quiet a name for himself as the Black Cat, all though the name was a bit misleading. In the right light his fur was indeed a light shade of black, but in any other light it took the form of a dark shade of russet with black spots staining the russet fur. His eyes, however, was where he got his name, each glowing globe a very dark orange. According to his victims all they saw of him were his glinting eyes before they died, and thus he was named the Black Cat.

Finally the precession of soldiers reached Windhelm's gate and were greeted with cheers from the people milling around just inside the gate. Of course, within seconds, most of the women left within the Brothel were also welcoming the soldiers back, but in their own way. The squadron of soldiers dissipated with women draped across their arms, each on their way to Candlehearth Hall where they would enjoy many tankards of mead.

Ralof and I on the other hand sat down on the steps before Candlehearth Hall, not wanting to burden Elda with anymore rowdy Nords. It was chilly, I have to admit that, but then again it was always cold in Skyrim. "So tell me, Athrema, do you still enjoy selling yourself off to any man that walks into the city?" he asked.

I groaned inwardly. Of course he had to bring this up now that we were alone. "Please don't start this again. You know I am happy doing what I do, I earn plenty of money and I've made friends!"

"But wouldn't you rather be out in Skyrim doing what the Dragonborn does?" Ralof pressed.

"Fighting dragons? I'd rather not. Fighting the two I had to during my year of solitude was enough. I'd live in peace if I never saw one until the day I die."

Ralof grinned; amused by the way I took his question, "Not fighting dragons, exploring Skryim. Travelling all around the country like you did that one year. Don't you miss it?"

He always knew how to play his cards right and he knew how much I missed travelling the open road armed with a bow and arrows. But I couldn't do that anymore, not without money. It's a dangerous life to live regardless of the amount of money you have and without money there's no way you can drop into an inn and order food. Living off the lands can prove prosperous but it can also turn sour with the change of the winds, something my father taught me back when he was still alive.

"Of course I miss it," I admitted. "But a life living in constant fear of what might try and kill me is no life for me. Trust me, Ralof. Life within Windhelm is much safer than a life sheltering in a cave."

Ralof nodded and the subject was dropped. He knew when the argument was lost. We spent most of the late afternoon chatting about the past six months and all the things that had happened to us within those months. I got to tell him about the trips to surrounding cities on business, even to ruins that were being pillaged by different people. He got to tell me about the places he had battled at, the people he had met and even the men he had once been close friends with, the men that now walked in Sovngarde.

And that was how the next topic started. The topic of Daedra, Aedra and Talos. "Which one do you worship?" Ralof asked curiously, balancing a tankard of mead on his knee as he looked at me from the corner of his eye.

I raised my head to look up at the darkening sky, realising that we had been sitting on the stone steps talking to each other for many hours now. "I worship none yet believe all."

"What?" was his reply. "How can you believe but not worship?"

"Easy. I believe that they exist and that they watch over us from Oblivion and Sovngarde, but I refuse to worship them until I meet one face to face. Until then I will continue to believe but not worship. Make sense?"

My friend took a swig from his tankard before he grunted, "S'pose so. Would it really hurt you to just worship one of 'em?" His drinking had taken a toll on the way his words were formed. Some were slurred whilst others just came out as a mess, causing him to restart his sentence. He _really _didn't take very well to being drunk.

I sighed quietly and laid my head in his lap so that I could face the sky in search of any constellations. Searching for shapes amongst the stars was a hobby of mine, one that I could do anywhere and at any time. "Yes. My mother taught me to believe the things in tales but worship the things I see with my own eyes. It is a lesson I am not willing to forget. What about you, Ralof? Who do you worship?"

"Talos. I fight for Skyrim under the flag of the Stormcloak's, therefore I must worship Talos," was his quick reply.

"Really? Doesn't seem very fair to have to believe in a god so that you can fight for a country. I highly doubt that Ra Sasha worships or even believes in Talos!"

Ralof grumbled something into his tankard, emptied it and then set it down, returning his hands to my head to begin weaving his fingers through my hair, just like he used to do whilst we watched the sun set back in Riverwood. "Ra Sasha fights for the country that took him in. I am a true Nord, a believer of Talos, and I must fight for my country. Perhaps my religion has yet to touch you like it has me and many others," he smiled down at me.

"Perhaps," I mumbled back. "Talos will have to greet me in person if I am to ever worship him."

For a little while we watched the skies in silence, tracing patterns in the skies with our eyes and occasionally pointing out a constellation. It felt like we were back in Riverwood, lying on the island after a day of hunting, training or helping around the town. That was until a dreadful screech shattered the silence into tiny shards and even the snow seemed to be blown a different direction by the raw power contained within the screech. The screech itself was enough to set my hair on end but it was the knowledge of what had let loose that screech that turned my blood to ice.

"I do believe your city has a rather bad case of Hagravens," Ralof observed in reference to the hideous creatures and their frightful screams.

But it was not a Hagraven and for once I wished it was. "That is no Hagraven, Ralof. That is the call of a dragon." As the words left my mouth a shadow fell across the city accompanied by another screech. Flames rocketed into the skies above us as a dragon hovered above the roof tops, hurling abuse at the guards in its native tongue.

"Maybe this'd be a good time to give you this," Ralof shouted over the din of screaming people, flaming houses and the roaring dragon. A glass bow had appeared in his hands along with glass arrows. I swiped the bow and arrows from him, admiring the swooping patterns and arching frame in the split second I had before I attached an arrow, pulled back the string and let the arrow loose, watching as it arched in the sky and hit the dragon square in the chest. It let out an angry howl, unleashing another bout of angry red flames.

"Just like old times," Ralof grinned as he too knocked an arrow at the dragon. "Except we're fighting a dragon instead of wolves."

"Aye," I shot back and set about climbing atop Candlehearth Hall's roof with a loud cry of, "To the pits of Oblivion with you!"

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**AN: Thank you for the reviews I have received so far. I do try and reply to each of your reviews through PM. New chapter next week. **

**-Hunter**


	4. Chapter Four

**AN: Yeah, yeah, I know it's Wednesday and not Monday but give me a chance, assignments and all. Enjoy. **

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For hours we battled against the violent beast with fire raining down on us from above. The beast, with scales the colour of green leaves, swooped down low and blasted the city with yet another mouthful of fire. By now any houses made of wood had been burnt to the ground, nothing more than piles of smouldering ash. Most of the citizens that couldn't fight had fled the city to hide in the surrounding forest but some were nothing but charred corpses on the ground.

I had long since run out of glass arrows, most of them imbedded within the scaly hide of the beast, and had been given about fifty steel arrows by a guard who had joined Ralof and me on the roof. It was the best place to shoot arrows as the wind carried it further. Small cuts littered my arms and cheeks from the explosions of fire erupting all around us. They stung horribly but I ignored them. Protecting my home was more important than the small slices in my skin.

Another loud screech erupted from the dragon's throat; piercing my ears and making them throb. I watched as the creature pitched to the left, one wing hanging limp whilst the other flapped hopelessly. Such a large creature had no hopes of flying with just one wing and it came crashing down into the city at the foot of Candlehearth Hall. Through the smoke, debris and mist of dust thrown up by the dragon's sudden crash landing we searched with our eyes for any sight of the monstrous beast with a belly filled with fire.

Everything stopped. Everything went quiet as everyone held their breaths, hoping with all their might that the dragon's neck had snapped as it met the ground.

A loud rumbling roar ripped through the dust and a glowing orange eye appeared, lighting up a small part of the mist. The dragon was still very much alive, very angry and now confined to a small space. Winning now seemed so very far away. I took a deep breath, steadied myself, nocked another arrow and waited for the perfect time to let it fly. But that time never came as the head of the beast snaked up right in front of me, orange eyes aglow with a hidden fire that burned deep within its black soul.

My breath hitched in my throat as the dragon brought its scar-riddled muzzle right down to my height, its eyes staring at me unblinkingly. Terror raced through my body, seizing up all my muscles and rendering me paralysed. And then it spoke. _"Grik brii fen qolaas sah dur do sahqon and slen." _

No words came to mind, I could think of nothing to say in return for I didn't even know what the dragon had said. The ancient tongue was lost on me and I regretted not learning how to speak it when father offered. A little part of me flared up with hope that the dragon had given up and would die peacefully, but then it screeched loudly and deafened me one again, but I didn't need my ears to figure out what was about to come. I could see the orange light beginning to glow in throat of the green dragon and once again I found myself seizing up, unable to move or even scream. All around me I could hear the shouts of the guards, all warning me to jump out of the way but I could not and all I wanted to do was tell them that I couldn't. From the corner of my eye I could see Ralof struggling to dash across the slippery roof tiles that had become soaked with water from the heat induced by the many fires raging throughout the city.

I returned my gaze to the face of the dragon, meeting its wild gaze with my own terrified one. For a fleeting moment I watched the stone cold gaze of the beast soften in pity and heard a small keening sound vibrate in its throat. And then the moment was gone and the dragon returned to glaring angrily at me, the light in the back of its throat growing brighter by the second.

I scrunched my eyes closed and just waited for the burning feeling of fire melting the skin from my bones. _Sovngarde awaits, _a small voice whispered in the back of my head. But I suppose fate had a different plan. Before the sound of flames leaving the dragon reached my ears I heard a different noise, the whooshing sound of wings hitting the open air. It confused me and I snapped my eyes open to see the strong, working wing of the dragon rushing towards me.

The wing hit me square in the side, knocking me from the roof seconds before hot flames licked that place I had been standing moments before. The stone ground rushed up to meet me and then it was gone as a – slightly – softer weight barrelled into me, stopping me from breaking bones against the hard ground. My heart slowed down a little and I allowed my eyes to slowly slide open. Warm skin rested against mine; warming my cold muscles up after the near-death experience I had just suffered. Soft green eyes looked down at me with worry causing my heart to skip a few beats.

"Why are you always around in time to save me?" I rasped, struggling to sit up against his firm grip. But he refused to let go.

"I suppose I just like saving damsels in distress," Brynjolf smirked back, smoothing down my ruffled hair with his hands. I noticed that they were black with soot in places as well as bleeding from small cuts, the sign that he had been helping people escape from their burning homes instead of fighting, which probably made him braver than any of us. "Besides, couldn't let you die after facing down a dragon now could I?"

A small laugh rolled out from my stomach. He certainly did know how to cheer me up at times, "How about we save this conversation for another time, when there _isn't _a dragon attacking my home?"

"Maybe. But I kind of like having you in my arms," he teased, tightening his grip around my waist. I blushed a little and then blushed deeper. Blushing was not something I did around men, especially ones that seemed so taken with me. "I think we're a bit late anyway. Look." He gestured to the dragon's head that was still peering over the roof at the guards surrounding it.

All though now it had a black silhouette perched precariously over its mouth, legs split open as to stop itself from falling into the open mouth. A sword was raised over its head and it brought it crashing down with frightening strength. The dragon cried out in pain as the sword sunk deep into its forehead, spraying blood everywhere. A loud thud rang out as the dragon hit the ground, lifeblood drenching the stone floor.

The silhouette landed lightly on the ground beside the fallen dragon just in time for the body to burst into flames, flesh burning into oblivion and leaving the skeleton scattered across the steps of Candlehearth Hall. Whispers that sounded like the dead heralding a new soul broke out as a bright light appeared above the dragon and shot over to the silhouette, disappearing within the stranger.

That was when it hit both me and Brynjolf. "Dragonborn," I breathed and once again attempted to wriggle out of Brynjolf's grip but again he did not let me. "Let me up, fool! I need to see if Ralof is alright!"

"Before I let you up can I ask you a question?" he murmured into my ear sending tingles racing through me. I nodded for him to go ahead. "Are you and Ralof um… you know…courting?"

I stared at him as if he had grown a second head. Here was this strong man reduced to a squirming, nervous mess all because he had asked me if I was courting or not. It was very amusing to see but I bit back the laugh, not wanting to upset him. "No. We aren't courting. He probably thinks that we will someday but…"

"You don't want to?" he offered.

"No. Yes. Maybe? I don't know! I've always thought of us as close friends but I guess he thought we grew even closer during the year we spent together in Riverwood," I replied shaking my head. "Now can you let me up? I'd like to see if my friend is still alive and then converse with the Dragonborn."

Brynjolf gave me a lopsided smile and released me, just like he promised, but not without another short question, "Just converse? Or are you planning on offering your service to the Dragonborn?"

I glared at him, "I hope you're not going to try and stop me from doing my job like Ralof does. But no, my services shall not be offered to the Dragonborn. He's an Argonian, is he not? I don't offer services to Argonians or Kahjiits."

He smiled back, pecked me on the cheek and then was gone into the smoke billowing from many fires. I remained where I was for a few seconds trying to register what had just happened but then I decided that finding Ralof was more important that worrying about a simple kiss on the cheek. Besides the Dragonborn needed to be thanked for saving Windhelm from the grips of a terrifying dragon.

"Ralof!?" I shouted hoping that I would receive an answer. "Ralof where are you!?"

"Athrema?" A reply reached my ears through the din of crackling fire and shouting people, calming my frantic heart. He was alright, he was alive, and that was all that mattered.

A few moments later he appeared through the smoke, blood smeared across his Stormcloak tartan staining the pretty blue a grisly red. His face broke into a broad smile as his eyes met mine but then they angered slightly and I flinched. I had scared him bad during the stand-off with the dragon. "I thought I'd lost you when that dragon hid you behind his wing! All we saw was the wing and then a burst of flames! Why, in the name of Talos, did you not move!?"

"I…I don't know. I just froze up and couldn't move. All I could think about was the dragon," I breathed. Ralof nodded and then swept me up in his arms, holding me close to his chest. His heart beat loudly in my ear and I could tell that he had indeed been scared for his heart was beating faster than it normally did.

"Just don't ever scare me like that again, okay?"

"Okay."

"You've got some guts, little lady," came a rough voice that broke apart the hug I had been enjoying. I looked up to glare at the intruder only to flinch as I met cold blue reptile eyes. They were staring at me from the black scaly face of the Dragonborn in all his Argonian glory. Spines split his scales along his neck and around the sides of his face whilst his tail was rimmed with small bumps. Two swords were slung around his waist, a bow tied to his back and magic crackled within his open palms. He really was a force to be reckoned with, a dragon killing machine. "I've never seen a woman Nord stare down a dragon before."

"Neither have I," I replied with a smirk, "I guess the two dragons I faced in the wilds of Skyrim didn't really prepare me to meet one face-to-face within my home city."

The Argonian tilted his head to one side, "You have not lived in Windhelm all your life?"

"No. For a year I wandered the wilderness without a home to return to. It was a life filled with adventure, hardships and long nights by the fire with only my shadow to speak with."

"I am glad to have met a wandering soul who feels the same," the Dragonborn smiled. "Your name?"

"Athrema. Yours?"

"Seeker."

I blinked. Seeker was certainly a strange name for an Argonian. "It has been a pleasure meeting you, Seeker. Will you be in Windhelm long?"

Seeker shook his head, "I was merely passing through when I heard the familiar sound of a dragon attacking innocent people. Such a sound cannot be ignored by someone who lives on killing dragons. I am glad I stopped by though; meeting someone such as yourself has been one of those moments I shan't forget. Your bravery is refreshing and I hope you never lose it."

"Oh, thank you!" I exclaimed, slightly taken aback by the praise from the hero known as Dragonborn. Seeker smiled and waved farewell before he vanished into the smoke on his way out of the city, not searching for any praise for the lives he had saved. Ralof grunted, raising his head to stare at the patches of starry skies that could be seen through the smoke.

"Talos must have been smiling down on us, sending the Dragonborn to save us from a dragon!"

I muttered a curse and thumped Ralof hard on the chest, "Someone was certainly looking down at us but whether it was Talos or a Daedra we will never know until we meet them on the day of our deaths."

"You always manage to sound depressing, you know that?" Ralof laughed, shoving me. "Lighten up a bit. We have people to cheer up and a city to rebuild!"

"Aye. One of us should fetch a bard to sing some songs for the workers! I'm sure Elda will have plenty of mead and ale to hand out to those that need it. Let's go help the injured."

The both of us walked off into the dissipating smoke, the goal of cleaning up Windhelm clear in our minds. Injured people would need help, homeless a place to stay, dead a place to rest their bones and mourners someone to be comforted by.

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**AN: Short chapter is short. See you next chapter and I promise you it will be uploaded on Monday XD **

**-Hunter**


	5. Chapter Five

**AN: I have returned from the grip of illness to bestow upon my faithful readers this chapter I could've uploaded ages ago but didn't for reasons entirely unknown to me.**

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**Chapter Five**

Two weeks was how long it took for Windhelm to be cleaned up so that it was safe again. Rubble was cleared out, cast out into the river to float away into the ocean where it would never be seen again. Dead bodies buried in the city graveyard where they could be mourned for as long as they needed to. Injured tended to, their injuries fixed up by magic and herbs.

Life was returning to normal, almost, but the memory of the dragon's attack would always be a whisper in the back of everyone's mind, some much rawer than others. I was one of the unlucky ones. Every night when I fell asleep I would see the green scales, orange eyes and bloody fangs as they rippled through my dream word, assaulting the ghosts that drifted like mists in a breeze. Hot flames would lick at my skin within each dream and I would awake gasping for breath, beads of sweat lingering on my shaking skin.

But Ralof was always there to soothe me, whisper comforting things into my ear and hold me until I fell back into a peaceful sleep that wasn't violated by green-scaled beasts with bellies of fire. Each night he sat up late beside my sleeping form just waiting for me to burst out of another dream. "There, there," he would say, stroking my hair gently. "It was just a dream; you're here, alive, safe from that dragon. It can't hurt you anymore."

And I would believe him and slowly drift back off to sleep in his arms. But I was dreading the day that he would be called away to fight the war again, the day I knew was fast approaching. That day came quicker than expected on the 5th of Last Seed.

"Athrema," came Ralof's sleepy voice. It filled my head and pulled me from my light nap. My eyes cracked open to look up into his blue eyes that were filled with sadness and regret and I knew that the day was here. "I need to tell you something."

"You're leaving," I guessed as I sat up, hugging the sheets tightly around my shivering body. Elda had allowed Ralof and me to use one of her inn rooms for the expanse of his stay and the rooms were rather chilly.

He nodded, "We both knew that I'd have to leave eventually, it was just a waiting game to see when that day would arrive. My squadron is waiting for me by the gate and I doubt they will wait for long. They want to be at our new camp by sundown tomorrow. I'm so sorry that I have to leave now, I was hoping I'd be around a little longer."

"No, it's okay. You need to go out and fight for Skyrim, it's what you're good at," I smiled up at him hoping that a simple smile would win him over. But it did not. He was too worried about me.

"I really don't want to leave you right now," he rumbled, pulling me closer to his chest. "These nightmares aren't going to go away for a long time and you have no one else to fight them off for you. Why don't you come with me? I doubt my squadron would mind. Most of them are quite fond of you after you faced down that dragon, Ra Sasha especially. Funny, never took you as a cat person." He winked at me and I punched him on the shoulder, smirking as he winced.

"Get out of here before your men pull you out by your ankles. I'll be fine, I promise. Nira will probably get the alchemist to brew me some sleeping potion to help me sleep without dreams," I told him as he sighed loudly. But I had won the argument and watched – sadly – as he rose up off the bed and pulled his tunic and blue sash over his head. His hands found his sword, helmet and boots that had been scattered throughout most of the room. Ralof wasn't one for neatness. "Write to me when you can?" I asked.

"Of course," he replied as he tugged his last boot on, "reply to me this time, okay?"

I laughed. The last time he'd sent me a letter it had taken me three days to get round to writing him a letter. Apparently he had freaked out and had almost marched his squadron back to Windhelm to check on me. I'd definitely not be making that mistake again. "I'll write a reply the moment I get a letter. Goodbye, Ralof!"

He hesitated, one hand on the door, and then turned back to me. Two footsteps brought him back to the bed, his hands reaching down to cup my face. His lips met mine with dizzying strength that knocked a little of the air out of me. I responded to the kiss, sinking into blissfulness as we melted into one, hands snaking up to circle around his neck. The kiss itself lasted mere moments but it felt so much longer than that, like we had been joined at the lips for an eternity. Ralof pulled back, a smile splitting his face.

"Now that's a proper goodbye," he murmured gently stroking my cheek with one thumb. "Promise me you'll be here when I get back?"

I nodded breathlessly before finding my voice, "I'll be here, always."

He smiled sadly and then left the room, door slamming shut behind him. I listened closely as his footsteps thumped down the hall, clunked down the stairs and then vanished as the front door swung open. As the door swung shut I fell back into the bed, shivering as a blast of cold air whipped through the room. That had been the first time he'd ever kissed me that passionately. I mean, we've kissed before back when we were together in Riverwood and all the residents thought we'd be married by Frostfall, but never so passionately that the wind had been knocked out of me.

Something had changed inside of Ralof, he wasn't the same anymore, almost as if he knew something I didn't. I shuddered under the sheets. What if he'd been told that I was going to die? Maybe that was why he'd been so reluctant to leave me! My mouth ran dry at the thought of him knowing that when he came back I wouldn't be here._ No, _I told myself strongly, _you'll be here when he gets back, and you promised him that you would! _I planned to keep that promise.

Going back to sleep was practically impossible, Ralof had made sure of that, so with a grunt I swung my legs around and stood up, shivering as the icy air bit into my flesh. Today was going to be another freezing day. My eyes wandered over the assortment of clothes I could wear today as my mind went over the things I might be doing. I knew Nira wouldn't have any work for me as I hadn't received a note detailing the client I would be serving. Elda had plenty of people already working for her and Bolfrida never needed any help. "Damn," I cursed, rubbing my cold arms. "What am I supposed to do today when no one needs any help?"

An idea suddenly came to mind. I'd go hunting, like I used to during the first few months of my stay in Windhelm. The thought of stalking through the wilderness beyond Windhelm's walls was very appealing and I found myself reaching for the pair of leather leggings that went under my body-hugging leather armour. Within moments I was dressed to fight off any wolves or skeevers with the bow Ralof had given to me slung over my back and a sheath full of steel arrows. I didn't really feel like wasting the glass arrows I'd been given on deer and elk.

The rest of my clothes I stuffed into a leather backpack of sorts that I could pick up later and take back to Icedawn, a note resting on top of the bag telling Elda to keep it safe till I returned. Elda would make sure my clothes didn't go missing; she was good at keeping thieves out of her inn.

My hand was resting on the door, ready to push it open, when I heard a voice reach my ears through the wooden door. "You told me no one would notice that she was dead!" the voice hissed angrily.

"As far as I was concerned no one would! Susanne the Wicked wasn't named that for no reason! Stupid whore of a woman was always messing around with men, stealing their money and things. How was I supposed to know that all of Windhelm would care so much that she was dead!?" another voice replied.

_Susanne the Wicked? She was murdered about two weeks ago, why are they still talking about her?_ It baffled me to hear two strangers arguing angrily about the city being so worried about the barmaid's death. Most people had stopped talking about it after the dragon attack. What confused me the most was that whoever was talking sounded like they knew how Susanne died. I decided that their argument was about to be interrupted and opened the door to greet the shocked expressions of a mage in blue robes and an average citizen.

My eyes narrowed at the sight of the mage, "Hello, Wuunferth."

"Athrema," the court mage replied coldly. Wuunferth the Unliving arguing about the death of a barmaid he had probably never spoken to; now that was certainly strange. "What a surprise to see you coming out of a bedroom in the inn." His voice was mocking and full of insult but I merely ignored it.

"I'd get used to it if I were you," I spat back. "Now what is surprising is seeing you out of your quarters. Do tell me, mage, why are you loitering around the halls of Candlehearth Hall so early in the morning?"

Wuunferth shuffled his feet in obvious discomfort, "I do not have to justify my actions to you, whore!"

Before either of us could really register what was going on, I had my dagger gripped in my left hand and pressed against Wuunferth's neck. The mage let out a squeak of shock horror as the knife pricked his skin, drawing drops of red blood from his veins. "Take that back," I growled into his ear.

"Why take back the truth when it is bound to be spoken again at a later date?" he retorted, struggling in my grip. My grip was too strong for him to wriggle out from, despite him being larger than me. His many days locked in his room had taken its toll on his muscles. They were practically non-existent.

I hadn't counted on his cowardly friend to step in though and the feeling of the tip of a sword pressing against my ribs came as a shock. "It would be wise to lower your weapon," the man offered voice shaking a little.

Outnumbered by one, I had no choice but to withdraw the dagger from Wuunferth's neck and return it to its sheath. The court mage coughed a few times, rubbing his neck with one hand as he glowered at me. "Thank you, Calixto. We had better be leaving now; our business has yet to be completed."

The elderly man known as Calixto sheathed his blade with a grumble, "As you wish."

"Maybe next time we can joust without interruption!" I sneered as the two men retreated down the hall before I followed, albeit a little slower. I had no desire to meet up with them again today so when I heard the front door slam shut I ventured further, jumping when Elda tapped me on the shoulder with a smile.

"Good morning," the innkeeper greeted as she swept the floor.

I steadied my breathing before I answered. "Hello, Elda. It is a nice morning I suppose. I'm heading out for a while but I'll be back later to pick up my clothes."

The innkeeper's eyes softened, "Ralof has left?"

"Aye. His duty to Skyrim has called him away from Windhelm but I suspect he'll be back in a few months," I replied, heart burning a little as Ralof's absence became a little clearer.

Elda smiled sadly and patted me on the shoulder as I walked past her. "Don't be eaten by a dragon whilst hunting," she jested as she returned to sweeping the inn floor. I stuck my tongue out at her as I exited the inn, only to be buffeted by a blast of chilly wind filled with sharp flecks of snow.

Snowing. Again. I rolled my eyes in annoyance as I began to walk towards the gate. It was always snowing in Windhelm, hardly ever stopped. Sometimes the snow might let up a little giving the citizens the hope of seeing sunshine, only to dash it the next day when more snow poured from the clouds. The gatekeeper pulled open the gate for me as I strolled towards it and I sent a silent thanks to him.

Beyond the gate lay the white world of Eastmarch, flurries of snow hiding the furthest parts of the Hold from sight. The guards watching the bridge nodded in greeting to me as I walked past them but none of them tried to strike up a conversation. Apparently today's batch of guards didn't want anything to do with any travellers or maybe they were just quite happy to observe rather than talk.

I didn't really mind. It only meant that I'd be away from the city sooner and be able to stalk silently through the snow with an arrow notched and ready to fly. There was a little fear set within me for the giant lizards with wings. If one were to spot me and decide that I'd make a quick meal then I'd be on my way to Sovngarde pretty quick. But a dragon hadn't been spotted within the Hold since the attack on Windhelm.

Finally I stepped off the bridge and onto the uneven cobblestone path, but instead of heading down to Bolfrida's I walked forwards and onto a dirt path. There certainly wouldn't be any deer or elk on the main paths so heading down a barely used dirt path seemed like a better idea.

Within moments my idea was proved right as a snow fox, pelt nearly as white as the snow itself, trotted over the dirt path. I pulled an arrow from the sheath, notched it and then poised the bow, ready to let the arrow fly when I decided. The fox paused in its trot, muzzle raised to breathe in a smell it had picked up, only to yelp in pain as my arrow pierced its abdomen. I grinned devilishly as I stalked over to my first kill, dagger clutched in my hand. The fox's fur would sell for a good price in the marketplace.

Once the fox was skinned – white fur safe in a leather bag – I buried its body beneath a mound of snow so that no scavenging skeevers would demolish the flesh left on the fox. I moved on from the spot marking my first kill of the day, searching for a bigger target that could supply me with some meat to take back for Elda as payment for allowing Ralof and I to stay at the inn whilst he was in Windhelm.

The day progressed well. By mid-afternoon I had brought down another snow fox, two deer and an elk, all the precious meats, skins and antlers safe within my leather bag I used when I went hunting. Nothing had tried to kill me either, save for the lone wolf that had jumped me beside the river. An arrow to the throat had halted the attack and sent the lone wolf tumbling into the river.

As the sun began to sink behind the mountains I began to make my way back towards Windhelm, not fancying a night walk through the snow and ice. A rumbling sound reached my ears as I trudged through the snow and I froze. It was a rumbling sound I was all too familiar of. Flapping wings sounded above me, wings that were much larger than that of a simple bird. Terror seized me, freezing me in place as a heavy creature landed behind me.

"_Greetings, Kendov,"_ a scratchy voice rumbled and I forced myself to turn my body to face the dragon behind me. Its scales were a blue that was so light it looked silver in the dying sunlight but its underbelly was a dull gray. However it was the eyes of the dragon that were a dark blue, so blue that they seemed to be piercing your very soul. "_Mu finally grind."_

"A-are you speaking to me?" I stammered reaching for the bow slung over my back.

_"Geh dreh you ni understand?"_

My hand brushed against the glass bow and I gripped it, ready to fight for my life if the dragon decided to attack. "I don't understand, I can't speak your tongue.."

The dragon shifted its wings, making me flinch. _"I apologise, I forget you mortals cannot speak Dovah. You are the mortal that stood up to Vokunlizviing, are you not?"_

"You can speak my language," I repeated stupidly before I shook my head. Now was not the time to be acting like an idiot. "If by Vokunlizviing you mean the dragon that attacked Windhelm then yes, that was me, all though I didn't kill that dragon. The Dragonborn did."

_"Ah, Dovahkiin is a warrior made to stand up to Dovah, he was bound to slay Vokunlizviing sooner or later. But I am not here to speak about Dovahkiin, I am here to speak with you, mortal. Your name please?"_

I stared cautiously up at the dragon's maw that hovered above the ground, terrified that those jaws would move to snap my fragile body in half if I angered the beast at all, so I dropped my hands to my side and decided to hold a conversation with this dragon until a guard or traveller noticed the hulking beast and attacked it. "My name is Athrema. May I hear yours?"

_"You are indeed the joor – mortal - I have been waiting for. It is indeed a pleasure to meet you, Athrema," _the dragon rumbled, lowering its head in a bow of sorts. _"I have, and always will, go by Lizahkrinah." _

"Lizahkrinah? That certainly is a mouthful. Is there a short version?"

My reply teased a low chuckle out from the depths of Lizahkrinah's stomach which shocked me a little. I had no idea that dragon's could chuckle, let alone grasp the aspect of humour. _"Your humour amuses me, mal kendov. But I am confused that you have not fled already, do I not frighten you?"_

"Of course you do!" I exclaimed. "But it's not every day I get to speak with a dragon without it trying to rip my head off, but I will admit that I am a little terrified right now. Answer me this, Lizahkrinah, why are you, a dragon of old times, bothering to talk to a Nord like me? I'm nothing special."

Lizahkrinah tilted his head to one side and made a low, keening noise that almost sounded like a rumbling sigh. _"You are more special than you give yourself credit for, mal kendov, but I suppose I do owe you an explanation. You and I are tethered. Mortal and Dovah, tied together in soul like the Dovahkiin and his dragon soul. For seasons I have waited for you to face down a dragon and unlock the terror set so deep in your heart that was set their the day you met Alduin face to face. That day has come, mal kendov, but are you ready?"_

Tethered. To a dragon. Me? None of what Lizahkrinah said made any sense. Why would I be tethered to a dragon when I was nothing more but a prostitute living in Windhelm? I could understand the Dragonborn having a dragon tethered to him simply because he's destined to save the world and all that stuff. But me? Why would the Gods waste a dragon on me when I hardly ever leave the city walls? "Why am I tethered to you? I don't plan on saving the world like the Dragonborn does. Ready for what? What should I be ready for!? None of this makes any sense!"

_"Calm yourself, mal kendov." _

"What does that even mean!? I don't speak dragon!"

Lizahkrinah lifted one wing off of the ground and used it to pull me closer to his scaly neck or chest, whatever part of his body was closest to my head. My ear was pressed against his cold scales but through the thick scales I could hear a heartbeat thumping loud and strong deep within the dragon's body. _"Can you hear that, mal kendov?" _When I nodded he continued. _"My heart beats in time with yours. When yours speeds up, so does mine. When yours slows down, so does mine. We are linked, you and I, linked forevermore. In the days to come this will become more apparent to you but I beg of you, mal kendov, to be ready when she rises." _

"Linked. Us. Okay. I suppose that makes a little more sense. But I still don't understand. Who's going to rise and what does this have anything to do with me?" I gasped breathlessly. Too much information was being forced onto me and it was starting to tire me out, not to mention the fact that darkness was beginning to encroach on the snow meaning that nightfall wasn't far off.

The dragon shook his broad head and twisted it so that he could stare down at me, _"These things not even I know. All I know is what I have read in the skies. Have you not seen the new constellation pushing its way into the skies? It brings with it an omen of darkness and despair. Please be careful, mal kendov, if you were to die then so would I." _

"I promise I'll be careful, Lizahkrinah, but I had best be returning to Windhelm now before the night falls over Skyrim and all the savage creatures come out to hunt. Will I be seeing you any time soon?"

_"Whenever you need me or just want a friend to talk to then whisper, or shout, my name and I will arrive. I am never too far away, mal kendov. Farwell fah nu." _

I watched as he opened his wings, the wind catching whistling over them as he stretched them out to their full length. A small smile graced my face as I watched the dragon adjust his wings so that they caught the full rush of the wind and then I remembered something I needed to ask him. "Lizahkrinah, wait! You never told me what mal kendov meant!"

_"Ah, I apologise. Mal kendov is Dovah for little warrior. Farewell!"_

"Goodbye, Lizahkrinah!" I shouted as the dragon rose into the skies and glided away into the rising night on strong wings that rose and fell with each flap, not making any attempt to walk away until the dragon had become nothing but a mere speck amongst thousands of glittering stars.

As I began to trek back to Windhelm I found myself grinning a little wider than I should seeing as it was freezing and I was in nothing more than leather armour. Today I had spent the day doing what I did best, hunting, and I'd caught a good amount of game, not to mention the fact that I had been befriended by the strongest creature throughout all of Skyrim. I doubt it's every day that a dragon lands near you with the goal in mind of speaking to you instead of tearing your head off.

Night had fallen by the time I reached Windhelm's gate. The guards nodded stiffly, one yawning loudly as I entered the city. Upon entering the city I was met with frightened gazes and tearful eyes. I found Elda, Leeshoi and Nira in the crowd and demanded an explanation without saying a word. "Oh, Athrema!" Elda burst out. "We thought you'd left as well!"

"Left? I told you I'd gone hunting, silly," I scolded the innkeeper gently, "Leeshoi, what's happened?"

The Argonian shuffled forwards, wringing her hands as she walked, "Demaria left this morning to entertain another travellers camp like she usually does but she never came back. Nira asked some off duty guards to go see if she was stuck on the road or something but when they got to the camp all that was left was Demaria's clothes! No one knows whether she left willingly or if she was taken by force!"

_Taken by force_. The words rocked me harder than they should have. Was this what Lizahkrinah meant when he told me to be ready?

* * *

**AN: Dragon friend! :D *grumbles* wish I had one of those. I have Lizahkrinah's dialogue in italics because he is a dragon and their voices always appeared otherworldly and supernatural during the game so that's how I show that he's an all powerful dragon. **

**I plan on updating again tomorrow because I want to and because I feel bad for leaving my readers without an update for so long. **

**-Hunter**


	6. Chapter Six

**Chapter Six**

_"Bound naal sos, tied naal dez, before Hearthfire you fen be dii…"_

The words hummed over and over in my head as I sifted around the abandoned camp, searching for anything that might point towards where Demaria was. Everyone else had just said that Demaria had moved on, left the Brothel to start a new life with one of the men from the camp but I knew that wasn't it. Demaria's whole life was based on the Brothel; she was almost rich off the earnings she received at the end of each week. She certainly wouldn't just pack up and leave without bragging to anyone about it. Something was definitely wrong and I wasn't planning on sleeping until I'd found out what.

Abandoned tents stood waving in the wind, torn fabric billowing around like the torn wings of a bird. Tables topped with spoilt, cold food still stood unturned in the middle of the camp surrounding the long-since put out camp fire. Once upon a time this camp had been alive with activity. A roaring fire, warm food, cheerful voices all raised to sing a jolly song, and Demaria dancing around the open fire, enjoying herself like she always did when she was out doing her job. But now it was nothing more than the centre of a crime.

"Ah, blast! Nothing here but spilt mead and broken chairs," I cursed, kicking at a chair leg. "How am I supposed to find Demaria if there's nothing of hers left!?"

_"Mal kendov, you kos certainly kril," _a rough – but familiar – voice cooed from behind. I spun on my heels; bow raised to nock an arrow into the heart of whatever creature was behind me. But instead of letting my arrow fly I smiled warmly.

"How do you mange to sneak up on me, Lizahkrinah? You're the biggest creature on earth!"

The blue dragon chuckled deeply and slithered further into the abandoned camp, claws clacking against the pebbles that lined the shoreline. _"Perhaps you just weren't listening close enough. What are you doing, mal kendov? Why does this abandoned camp attract your attention so deeply?"_

I blinked up at the dragon and then indicated to the torn up camp, "An..acquaintance of mine was here at this camp yesterday but she didn't come home and the people in the camp have left. Everyone else has said that she's moved on but I don't think so. Demaria wouldn't do that."

_"Is it possible that you do not know this acquaintance of yours as well as you think?" _Lizahkrinah rumbled, swishing his tail calmly. _"Mal kendov, worrying for acquaintances is not wise. Worrying for yourself on the other hand _is _more important." _

A flicker of annoyance flitted through my mind. What did the dragon know about protecting people within your home? He was a dragon! "I need to find her in case something is wrong. Did you see anything, Lizahkrinah?"

The dragon sighed, shifted uncomfortably and let out a low murmur, "_I have not."_

"Don't lie to me! I'm tethered to you; doesn't that mean we have some sort of trust thing where we both trust each other with everything?" I pressed.

_"Munax. You are right; trust is an important thing to keep in the relationship between two tethered creatures. I may have scented something in the air yesterday whilst we were speaking. Blood was on the air, not much, but enough for me to scent it and it originated from this camp site. Whether it was the blood of your acquaintance or not I do not know." _

I rubbed my hand against my forehead now confused even more than I had been moments ago. Blood meant a struggle or that Demaria had lost control, none of which were a good thing. If the vampire had lost control then she would have run far from any civilisation in the hopes of controlling the blood lust. She could be anywhere. "This is not going to be easy," I muttered to my dragon friend. "Why can't people just tell you where they're going before they run off!?"

Lizahkrinah chuckled again, _"What would be the point of hiding away from civilisation if you were telling people where you are? Logic is something you don't use very often, mal kendov!"_

I gasped in mock hurt and hit Lizahkrinah's side lightly, not wanting to hurt my own hand against his stone hard scales. He growled under his breath, stretched out his wing and knocked me over with it, sending me sprawling across the snowy ground and nearly into the bubbling river. "That was mean! You should pretend you're weaker than me so that I can beat you."

The dragon shook his head. _"If I was to act weak then I might as well be a small lizard." _

"At least then you'd be easier to beat," I smirked. The two of us relaxed a little as we threw light insults at each other as we surveyed the camp with our eyes only. It was very strange for me to be so relaxed in the presence of such a terrifying beast, to be joking around with the dragon as if he was a friend.

But that peace was broken by a hoarse cry from the dirt path winding its way parallel to the river. An arrow whizzed by moments later, burying itself in the dirt mere inches away from Lizahkrinah's clawed foot. Both of us turned – Lizahkrinah only his head – to stare at the stranger that had shot an arrow at us. I groaned out loud at the sight of a familiar dark red-headed figure fumbling with a bow that he obviously couldn't use. "Lower your weapon, Brynjolf!" I barked.

"But there's a dragon beside you!" the thief hollered back. "If I don't kill it then it'll kill you!"

I muttered a curse under my breath before I answered, "Lizahkrinah is a fahdon – uh, friend!" Brynjolf lowered his weapon, but only slightly, and began stalking carefully over to us, eyes darting from me to the dragon. I was tempted to laugh at the fear shining in his eyes. Brynjolf the fierce thief frightened of a friendly Dovah? "Why am I suddenly speaking like you, in your language?"

_"Because we are tethered. Our knowledge flows between us when we are together and at peace, that is why you are speaking in the language of Dovahs. Relax, you won't speak my language when we are not together." _The dragon paused and lowered his head as a low sigh rattled from his chest._ "Joined sunvaar usually mah ko love." _

"What? I'd prefer it if you spoke my language so that I can understand you!"

Lizahkrinah almost smiled, _"If you spoke Dovah better then you would know what I had said." _

By now Brynjolf had gotten close enough to hear us speaking and was staring with eyes as wide as saucers at us, confused why a dragon was speaking to a Nord like they were close friends. "Athrema, can you explain to me why you're being so friendly with a _dragon!?_" he exclaimed.

"That I can. Lizahkrinah and I are tethered, bonded if you will. He is a friendly dragon and won't burn you to a crisp because he feels like it. He'd only do that if you were harming me," I explained, flashing Brynjolf a smile. "Why are you here? This camp site isn't exactly on the main road."

The thief regarded Lizahkrinah cautiously before he slung his bow over his back, similar to where mine was. The dragon stared back, eyes equally as curious. _"Treat ek well bron ahrk I fen regard you ol fahdon." _

"What? What did he say?" Byrnjolf demanded, twisting his head to stare at me. I shrugged and pointed to the dragon. "I came looking for you. I owe you a drink, do I not?"

I smiled whilst Lizahkrinah growled quietly under his breath, glaring at the thief with burning eyes. "There's no need to be so protective, I can look after myself. And yes, you do owe me a drink. I can't see anything else that would be of any importance to me here so I might as well go now. Goodbye, Lizahkrinah," I waved farewell to my dragon friend.

He inclined his head. _"Goodbye, mal kendov. Be careful. Call me if you need me," _he breathed and shot up into the sky, huge wings pulling him into the air. Within moments he had disappeared into the gathering clouds. Brynjolf and I watched him vanish into the skies before we began to walk back to Windhelm. We chatted lightly, none of us mentioning my being tethered to a dragon simply because it was something that didn't really need to be discussed.

Candlehearth Hall was warm when we burst through the door, a few stray snowflakes drifting in with us. Elda greeted me with a hug and Brynjolf with a glare. It was apparent that she knew of the thief's history. Regardless she served us both full jugs of mead into the late hours of the night as Brynjolf and I joked together like old friends.

In the early hours of the morning we both fell into the room I had shared with Ralof under strict commandments by Elda to fall asleep in there where she could make sure we were safe. Both of us were rather drunk and off balance, so how we managed to even make it to the bed without falling over surprise me. How we managed to end up in each other's arms was even more surprising. "I've never met a girl like you before," Brynjolf yawned as she stroked my hair.

"I do believe that is the mead talking," I retorted with a giggle. Me and lots of mead don't mix well.

The thief abruptly sat up, pushing me onto the other side of the double bed. "Is not. I'm being serious! I've seen many beautiful women before but none of them have had an effect on me like you have, I just can't stop thinking about you! Even today when I was concentrating on brawling with Rolff I was thinking about you. That's why I came looking for you today, so I could tell you how much I care for you but then I thought about it and realised that we haven't really known each other for very long and I was worried that you might turn me down and never wa-" I shut him up with a kiss.

He was babbling on about things that I didn't think were important, the only thing I was concentrating on were the four words he said; 'I care for you'. He cared for _me_, a local prostitute with no family and a risky job. A little part of me cared for him as well, a part of me that wanted to take over and control my every thought, but I didn't let it. I didn't even really know who Brynjolf was yet, I didn't want to fall in love with someone I don't know.

_Time, _I thought to myself, _give it time to grow._ So, as Brynjolf and I melted together, lips pressed against each other I let myself go so that I could gauge how I reacted to being with the thief.

And I reacted well. We fell back into the bed, hands roaming over our bodies. Bliss. That was all I felt, just pure bliss. But even as I was enjoying intimacy, those same words still hummed within my head, beating like a heart, warning me of something to come that I was not ready for.

_"Bound naal sos, tied naal dez, before Hearthfire you fen be dii…"_

* * *

**AN: I said I'd upload another chapter today, did I not? I don't mind not receiving reviews for every chapter; as long as I can see that people are reading each chapter then I don't mind and if people are still reading them this far into the story then they must enjoy them. **

**-Hunter**


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